


So They Say It's Your Birthday

by MoralitySucks



Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: M/M, jimbert - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:59:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoralitySucks/pseuds/MoralitySucks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robert has a magical birthday surprise in store for Jimmy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So They Say It's Your Birthday

“Jiiimmy!” Robert’s clear, ringing voice echoed through the dimly lit suite, proceeding the slam of the door from the ante chamber that led into the room.

Jimmy looked up momentarily from the black Gibson in his hands; he sat cross legged on an elegant ottoman, the sleeves of his pale pink satin shirt pushed up above his elbows and some of his long black hair tucked behind an ear. He returned attention to the guitar.

“Jiiiimmy!” As was typical of the young singer, the lack of response immediately increased the urgency and cadence of his voice.

Without even thinking about it, Jimmy slid his left hand down to the base of the fret board and squawked out a near perfect match to the questioning whine, then smiled when he heard Robert’s laugh and the rapping of his heels on the hardwood floor.

Robert’s skin tight, freely torn jeans were rolled up, showcasing the worn snakeskin boots he wore that clashed magnificently with the loud floral blouse that hung open, baring his chest and trim stomach. “There’s my guitar hero! And you know, some people answer with words rather than wah-wahs?”

Unable to keep from smiling, Jimmy plucked a string and bent it to the top; the guitar equivalent of a light hearted shrug.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Excitement was evident on his face even as he attempted a casual air, sitting on the ottoman and crossing his legs.

“You didn’t look in my room first?”

Robert waved a hand dismissively. “I had to look very carefully around the hotel bar- until the capitalist barkeep decided to look carefully at my ID. And then I had to check John’s room, see if maybe you’d slipped in between the rolling papers, you’re thin enough. Oh, I brought you this!” He shook his gleaming curls back and pulled one of two thick, pungent blunts from behind his ear. Ignoring Jimmy’s out stretched hand, he instead stuck it between the guitarist’s lips himself.

Jimmy cocked an eyebrow, but drew in a deep drag when Robert sparked a match from his book and held it to the end. There was silence while Robert lit his own joint and they both digested that first hard hit. “Anyway, I’ve got a birthday present for you!”

“My birthday was two weeks ago, Robert.” He spoke with an exhale of smoke, enjoying the site of it streaming across one of the moats of sunlight almost as much as he enjoyed the sight of Robert’s lips wrapping tightly around his own joint.

“Oh. Well, I’ve been blitzed since your party and just recently sobered up enough to get it together for you.”

“I didn’t have a party, we performed the night before, the night of and the night after.”

“Well I celebrated for you. Oooh, this is gorgeous!” He’d started poking at the pile of jewelry that Jimmy had slowly shed on the ottoman next to his bare feet, and he smiled brilliantly as he pulled up a heavy chain with a solid chunk of turquoise set in a silver mount.

“It’s worth 2,500 pounds.”

“Neat!” Robert hung it around his neck and donned several of the rings, examining them gleefully. “I’ve not really been dazed and confused the whole time, it’s kind of a tricky gift and I didn’t want to tell you about it till it was all lined up.”

Jimmy’s attention had slowly waned, now focused on the erratic fingering of his fret board. “Mm hmm.”

“The last thing I needed was a particular phase of our lady moon, and the sun is just about to set.” Robert spared a look from the copious jewelry now decorating his wrists and fingers, smirking triumphantly at the obvious interest in Jimmy’s eyes. “But if you’re too busy, we can wait until next January…”

Jimmy rolled his dark eyes. “I’m listening.” Music was Jimmy’s heart and his soul sounded like thin wound guitar strings, but he had a few other interests. The occult and its magicks whispered to him like an unplugged electric playing quick riffs he couldn’t quite catch.

“Great! I’ll tell you a little more on our way to the henge.”

 

 

It wasn’t much of a henge, in Jimmy’s opinion. Perhaps a barrow, if one was feeling generous. He was feeling high, but he wasn’t sure if he was feeling generous just yet.

He followed the gleam of moonlight reflecting off of Robert’s exceptionally bleached jeans, ‘like a hunter tailing a deer’s bright white arse’ he thought with a smirk. They reached the line of scrub brush and Robert spun unexpectedly, his toothy grin and wide, excited eyes flashing brilliant under the moon. “Take your shoes and socks off.”

Jimmy planted his feet and folded his arms, fixing a meaningful expression on his face.

“Well it’s not me!” The blond defended with a shrug, slipping out of his own open toed sandals and placing them at the base of the tree. “It’s the tiny old Welsh woman that confided the location to me. She said we’re not to cross the fairy ring with anything between our feet and Gaia’s dirt.” He wiggled his long, calloused toes in the sparse grass for emphasis.

‘Easy for him with his Hobbit feet.’ And then he said out loud. “Robert, that’s silly. Fairy rings are just those little circles of mushrooms, hardly enough space for me and a guitar, let alone the both of us.”

A gleaming sapphire ring winked in the moonlight as Robert gestured dramatically, pulling back a scrub to reveal a line of mushrooms, red with white spots, stretching into the undergrowth. Some short and plump, others tall or clustered as pairs, none more than two inches from the next in line.

“Good lord!” Jimmy breathed, dropping to his knees and pushing away some greenery. “How far does this go?”

Placing his left hand on his hip, Robert twirled his right index finger around several times, indicating the hill itself. “The whole thing. Caps itself off like a Parthenon of the fair folk, so says sweet grandma Moira. If you don’t want to heed her warning, that’s your business.”

But the guitarist had already shed his heeled boots and tucked his fine white socks neatly inside of them. His toes were pale and slender, much like his delicate fingers; with closely trimmed nails and no visible callouses, the ground did seem quite foreign to the young man, and he shuffled in place awkwardly like someone on hot sand. But his cheeks were flushed with color and he was smiling excitedly. “We most certainly wouldn’t want to do that. The ‘fair folk’ are about as fair as a tetchy third Reich member. Let’s do our best to not cross them.”

 

“I thought you might see it that way.” Even when not visible, Robert’s playful smirk was quite audible.  
Taking care to roll the soft fabric of his pants up to avoid dirtying the fringe, Jimmy straightened up and glanced into the copse. Despite the full moon, it looked dark and foreboding and not at all somewhere the young Middlesex lad particularly wished to venture barefoot. “You know where the path to the top is?”

Robert gave a shrug that made his hair ripple and catch the slight breeze pushing the dull, familiar smell of rain about the countryside. “That’s a bit of it, you see, there isn’t a path to the top. Not in the Queen’s way, anyway.”

“What, really? Have you got a torch, then?” It wasn’t really a question, as evident by Jimmy’s meaningful glance at the singer’s skin tight Levis, clearly with no room for supplies.

“Of course I’ve not got a ruddy torch, Pagey! The wee people get riled over footwear, I don’t think they’ll be thanking us if we hand deliver a faraday light. We’ve gotta go this one with no provision save an open face. Er, she said open eyes, but it’s so much more meaningful as face. It’s a brilliant visual and really speaks as a metaphor, as well.”

He didn’t wait for this train of thought to derail into a lyrical brainstorm as did so many of Robert’s. “How are we even supposed to get to this magical place, when it’s so dark and the wooding is this close together?”

Robert responded by dancing into the trees, slipping into darkness like sunshine trickling through water.

Swearing, Jimmy followed slowly, daintily picking the ground he stepped on while pushing ungracefully through the same branches. Once he saw Robert’s distinctive, fit arse, he

finally looked from the ground and felt his vehement string of curses peter away. His jaw dropped.

The copse only looked thick and wildly overgrown from the outside. Once past the deceptive wall, the trees were evenly spaced, the branches kindly curving up and towards the sky just enough for a full grown man to move around unhindered. He still couldn’t see very far ahead, but he could see the silvery appearing ground and he felt something that pushed all the worry out of his mind.

After a minute of silent awe, he spoke quietly. “I still don’t see what way-“

Robert spun on his heel and grabbed Jimmy’s shoulder. “Do you hear that?”

They listened to a high keening noise coming to them from deeper in the trees. Jimmy’s eyes widened in alarm. “Is that singing?”

If the sound startled the guitarist, it thrilled the singer, and he grinned manically before dashing off towards the lilting music.

For a frightening second, Jimmy thought he’d lost him, and he let the panic of being lost out in the wilderness on his own urge his legs forward, tentatively calling out. “Robert, slow down, I can’t see anything! We’re going to get lost and my feet are cold-“ He ran headlong into the target of his complaints.

They fell to the ground in a tangle of swearing and laughter. It’s easy enough to guess who was swearing and who was laughing.  
Trying to regain some balance and keep off the ground, Jimmy found himself straddling Robert, with his hands on the younger man’s chest and some of his golden hair around his fingers.

Robert’s fair, beautiful face was thick with innuendo as he rolled his hips and grinned up at his band mate. “You couldn’t wait until we got into the water?”

He didn’t exactly jump to his feet, having to untangle his hands from the wild mane of hair, but he did look mighty flustered as he clambered to them. “What water? I’m not getting in any water. And is there someone else up here?!” He used the increasingly loud tinkling sound to distract from the uncomfortable heat spreading across his cheeks.

“Yes and no.” Robert said with a cryptic smile. He stood up and took Jimmy by the arm. “You need to look up from the ground, love.”

They had stopped at the henge itself; stones the size of two men stacked equilaterally in a semi-circle, leaning on and supporting one another, and directly across from where the rock stars had entered was three such stones framing a cave entrance like a perfect doorway that Robert was now steering them towards. Inside this semicircle, three more lines of stones laid on their sides stretched from the exterior to seemingly point welcomingly at the cave entrance. For the first time since they met, Jimmy found himself wordlessly going along with his suggestions.

“It’s this that’s singing.” Robert said quietly, pushing Jimmy through the entrance so he could see the springs.

Deep set in the ground, three pools of similar size bubbled with energetic, overflowing water, clearly very hot as the entire chamber was billowing with steam. The crystal clear water seemed impossibly iridescent, magical colors dancing about the pools and across the wet stone walls like loose fairies startled by the humans.

“How-“ But even as he spoke, Jimmy’s eyes fell on the giant chunk of clear rock crystals protruding from the top of the cave must be exposed on the outside, as evidence by the moonlight refracting joyously through it.

“That’s why the timing needed to be so precise!” Robert exclaimed, stepping reverently down for a closer look. He turned slightly and offered the older man a hand.  
Jimmy didn’t hesitate to take the hand and move down to stand next to him. “How did you know about this?” He spared a look from the magical water to curiously inspect Robert’s bright blue eyes.

“Vacationed nearby when I was a kid. Me mom heard about it in the way women hear about things in old towns and took us here.” His smile was as bright as the moonlight and he broke away from Jimmy’s gaze to walk slowly around the perimeter of the cave, touching the stone as if checking for solidness. “It was day time then, and middle of the summer. I was worried I’d romanticized it, like I do so many things, but…” He turned back to Jimmy, giddy and flushed. “It’s even more beautiful than I remember.” Sweat from the steam and his own exertions was already beading across his bared chest, leaving glistening trails all down his torso.

“Yes, it is.” Jimmy swallowed hard, tugging at his own collar and hot clothes.

“Oh, well, you swore you weren’t getting in any water, so I guess we should head back-“

First, Jimmy stopped him with an outstretched hand, quickly followed by his removed shirt and his belt. Finally, he placed his folded pants on top of the pile in Robert’s arms and stood unabashedly in black briefs. “Go on then, find somewhere dry to put those, love.”

“Oh, Mr. Page, I do love when you take charge.” He responded, widening his eyes in mock surprise. Laying the bundle down at the dry cave entrance, he turned back and stepped closer to where Page was crouching over the biggest pool. “And now how about I find somewhere wet to put you, love?”

As skinny and precariously balanced as he was, it took barely more than a friendly hip check to send Jimmy head first into the hot spring. His flailing and splashing made it impossible for him to see under the water, and once he surfaced and shook his sopping wet, clinging hair out of his face, he glared angrily at the completely nude man standing over him.

Hands on his hips, joint in his mouth, Robert grinned down at him. “How’s the water, Pagey?”

Having joked before that Robert’s jeans might as well be nonexistent for how much of his manhood they actually covered, Jimmy now appreciated the denims valiant effort at reigning in the beast between his singer’s legs.

Before Jimmy could extend the invitation himself, Robert jumped into the water, dunking his hair and shaking it out like a dog. He handed over a somehow miraculously dry joint and smiled innocently. “Know what the locals call this place?”

“I don’t know a word of Welsh, you know that.” He spoke as he inhaled the sweet smoke and settled against the warm, polished wall, greatly enjoying the steaming hot water line tickling his neck and the soft, sandy floor on his toes.

Water shifted as Robert found a spot right next to him, the tips of his wet hair trailing coolly on Jimmy’s bare shoulder. “Awen Glyn. Awen is Welsh for inspiration, poetic and musical inspiration, in fact.” He moved again, this time to stretch both his arms out casually along the cave floor, his left arm hooking over Jimmy’s slim shoulders. “The druids believe if the right person bathes in this singing rainbow spring, they’ll be given an abundant wealth of poetic inspiration.”

Jimmy mulled this over, handing back the joint. “Seems to have worked on you as a child.” He suggested in what he hoped was a playful tone. He readjusted his footing, leaning a little less on the wall and a little more on Robert.

“You’ve not really heard much of my own stuff, yet. You’d be smart to reserve judgment.” He snubbed the joint out with a hiss lost in the tinkling of the water and threw the roach on top of his own jeans.

“I’d like to hear your own lyrics.”

“Really, now?” Dropping the pretense of casually stretching his arms out, Robert hooked one right over Jimmy’s shoulder, pulling him closer, cleared his throat and shook his wet mane back. He began crooning softly, in much lower and gentler tones than he displayed on stage or in the studio. It was only two verses in a mix of English and Welsh blended seamlessly together. A love song or maybe a ballad of the beautiful valley, it was hard to tell.

As he listened, Jimmy grew increasingly hot for a reason completely unrelated to the water. He could feel the vibrations in Robert’s chest, humming along into his own body and caressing his ears, and making his cock harden. Talent would always be his biggest turn on.

Just as he was struggling with how to hide this newest development, Robert stopped singing, tightened his grip on Jimmy’s shoulder and suddenly jerked him to his chest. Jimmy was forced to scramble for footing, clinging to Robert’s muscular, slippery arms as he widened his stance and ended up straddling the blonde. Much to his chagrin, he could feel himself harder than ever pressed against the other man’s thigh.

“Guess you did like it?” Robert’s clear voice was dripping with amusement. He readjusted his own footing, grinding a little against Jimmy’s enthusiastic reaction, grinning at the moan this earned.

“It was beautiful, but I didn’t understand a word of it.” He replied after a few shaky breaths. His eyes widened when Robert grabbed his thin wrist and slowly guided it down to his (somehow even larger now that he was hard) at attention cock.

“That’s alright,” he purred against his ear, enjoying the smell of his dark curls and arousal. “You’re not much of a words man anyway, are you?”

“Mmm.” Jimmy’s strokes were painfully slow, cataloging every inch of impressive love. “What do you think happens if we fuck in the glyn of inspiration?”

That was all that Robert had been waiting for. He easily lifted Jimmy up in the water, and the guitarist instinctually clung to him with his legs, his cock straining next to the line of hair going from Robert’s bellybutton to his golden tangle of pubic hair. He brushed back long hair and nibbled Jimmy’s neck, while stroking him slowly. “Maybe we become the next super group and change the face of rock forever, fueled by the inspiring hammer of the gods themselves.”

“Hammer of the gods, is that what you call it?” He smirked even as he rubbed against Robert’s dick for emphasis.

“Stop being lewd and kiss me, Mr. Page.”


End file.
